Klingon Pride
by dragonpearlz
Summary: Worf gets sick while serving on the enterprise. Sneeze fiction Sneezefic . Hurt/Comfort. Not Slash.


Lt. Worf and his pre-teenage child walked through the yellow glow of the hallways of the Starship Enterprise.

"I can _not_ believe you are being sent home for screaming," Worf chastised.

"But, it was gross, father," Alexander protested, nearly running to keep up with his father's long, quick strides.

"Then you should have told Mrs. O'Brian. Or, perhaps given your handkerchief to that person and told them that they should sneeze into that, and not onto you. Klingons have pride. We do not scream like Ferengi."

"I'm sorry, father," Alexander answered in a meek voice. He hadn't been feeling well all day, but he didn't want to tell his father, lest he think him not a strong Klingon warrior. He hadn't offered his handkerchief because it was too well used. "Hehcheeh!" he sneezed, freely, to the side.

Worf stopped in his tracks. "Alexander, that was very childish of you. You should be using your handkerchief." He paused a moment, watching his son run a finger under his nose. "Bless you," he added as an after thought.

He sighed. Raising a child was so much more work than he thought it was going to be. Though it wasn't like he was given a choice in the matter either. During his parents last visit, they explained that they didn't have the energy to raise a Klingon child. Though, for the life of him, Worf couldn't figure out why. Alexander was so quiet and meek, so much like a human child. Even when he was rambunctious, it generally seemed to be because he thought that's what people expected of him. But, his own personality was mild.

"Thank you, father," Alexander responded with forced pride.

"Are you feeling well?" Worf asked, forcing himself to show, what Deanna called, human kindness.

"I am fine, father," Alexander replied.

stststststststststst

"Heh…." Worf raised a handkerchief to his face. "Ehhh…." The sneeze lingered, teasing him, making his nose run. He sniffed lightly. The tickle intensified, but did not move from its spot. "Oh, come on," he growled. Just as he thought it was going to go away, and he lowered his handkerchief, it came back – with a vengeance. "ASIATCHOO!" The sneeze was loud, harsh, and very wet. It left him light-headed, and spots floated in front of his eyes.

He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Typically, they kept their quarters warm, to reflect the environment of the Klingon homeworld. But, today they felt particularly cold.

"Heh…." He sniffed wetly. "AACHISTHOO!" The sneeze came so fast, he barely had time to catch it. He straightened himself up and tried not to slouch, even though he wanted to.

Alexander had been ill. But, it ran through him in two days. This was Worf's third day being sick, and he seemed to be getting worse.

The first two days, Alexander tended to him, as much as he would allow. He ordered soup and tea. He contacted Dr. Crusher and told her what had happened. And, much to Worf's chagrin, Dr. Crusher administered her orders through Alexander.

But, when he woke up even more congested on the third day than he had been on the second, he sent Alexander to live with Deanna, so that he didn't re-infect the boy.

He sighed and coughed harshly. He wondered if this was another illness altogether. "HEKETCHUM!" The sneeze ended in a long, wet blow. He felt the warm air of the room penetrate his sinuses, but only briefly. Within moments, he was as congested as every.

His doorbell chirped. Normally, it would be unexpected. But, after sending Alexander to Deanna, he expected that she would be checking in on him eventually.

"Come," he answered. He was surprised how much his throat hurt.

The doors slid open and Deanna walked in. The yellow light from the hallways haloed her in nearly blinding light.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, as if she didn't know. Being half Betazoid made her empathic. She knew exactly how he was feeling, but her question was kind, and her voice was so soothing.

"I am well, and you?" he answered with a forced show of strength.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Now, Worf, I would have thought you would be passed this by now. You know you can tell me the truth." She smiled warmly.

Even had she not been empathic, she could tell how he was feeling. His quarters were generally warmer than most humanoids. But, he was still sitting bundled in blankets shivering. 'Fever,' she mentally ticked off. His color was substantially paler than usual, which she also attributed to the fever.

"So, let's try again," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching up. "How are you feeling."

A sneeze took that exact second to show her exactly how he was feeling. "ESTCCHHHOO!" he sneezed harshly. The tickle seemed to move from his nose to his throat, starting him off on a harsh coughing spell.

'At least the coughs are dry,' she thought. "I see," she said. "I understand why you sent Alexander to me."

He immediately sat up straight. "If it is a problem…"

"No! Not at all," she interjected.

"I did not want him to catch this," he said responsibly.

She smiled. "Of course."

"You're laughing at me?"

"No, I know you care about Alexander. I just think that this is another example of Klingon pride. You don't want Alexander to see you weakened."

Worf couldn't argue with her.

"Even though it is part of the Klingon culture for the young to care for and honor their elders. Don't you think that his taking care of you will help with that?"

Another good point. "When he is older," Worf answered, gruffly.

She made a mental note to bring this up in one of their sessions. Alexander had been immensely worried about his father all morning, which is what spurred her to check in on him.

"Well, do you need anything?" she asked.

"No. Tell Alexander that I look forward to discussing this with him when I feel better."

She smiled. It was a start.


End file.
